Anytime
by spectersanatomy
Summary: Something about Harvey was off, and Donna would be damned if she didn't figure it out before Mike arrived. But Harvey being Harvey, he was too stubborn to just admit that he had a concussion, he was determined to act as though everything was fine, even when it clearly wasn't.


**So I got this inspiration yesterday after I had a concussion this time last week, it was awful so I decided to write a fanfic about it. (That also explains the lack of updates on Fall Down, but I promise there will be a new chapter in the next few days.**

When he woke up he felt awful. His head was pounding and he regretted his choice to buy an apartment with windows for walls - the light flooding through the them was unbearable. He had known it would be bad after last night, but not this bad.

Slowly, he sat himself up, shuffling over to the edge of the bed and just sitting there for a moment before finally mustering up the strength to lift himself off the mattress and head to get ready. However, as soon as he was on his feet, the world began to tilt from side to side and he began to sway slightly, deciding to sit down again. Once he felt normal again, he slowly headed to the bathroom, ignoring the haze around him, but before he could so much as put toothpaste on his brush, he found himself knelt before the toilet emptying the contents of his stomach into it.

Donna was beyond pissed with Harvey. He was supposed to have been there over an hour ago for an important meeting and he was not returning her calls. Sure she could do her Donna thing and keep the guest entertained, but that began to wear off after about half an hour when he had realised the time and became conscious of other things he had scheduled.

However, she was also starting to worry slightly, he was never usually this late, and it was unusual for him not to answer his phone - especially to her. She was pretty sure he had a special ringtone for her. Just as she was considering heading over to his apartment and pounding on the door until he answered, she saw him approaching the office.

Something was wrong.

She could tell straight away. For starters, he had had a big win yesterday and instead of walking in with his usual overconfident style, he was moving slowly and cautiously. Secondly, he looked as though he was about to collapse, but being as stubborn as he is, he was trying to hide it.

He didn't even greet her as he walked past her desk, his head was throbbing too much and the haze surrounding him was too great for him to speak or form coherent thoughts. He just opened the door, taking a second to linger there before taking a deep breath and staggering over to his desk.

This was strange, he always had some kind of witty remark first thing, he had every day ever since they started working together. It was usually a comment about his sex life, or the fact that the two of them were practically married, but there was nothing - not even a wink.

It didn't take long for him to glance up and see Donna stood there expectantly waiting for him to fess up and tell her what the hell was wrong - but he wouldn't. He refused to admit that there was anything the matter; he was fine. Besides the splitting headache, constant nausea, vertigo and how heavy his head felt.

"Are you hungover?" She asked, giving him a glare that scared even him. If there was one person in the office he didn't want to cross, it was Donna. Her icy stare was worse than even Jessica's, and she could send anyone off quaking in their boots if she wanted to - he was just grateful she liked him, and the handbags he bought her when they won big.

"No." He said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended, which he was actually quite grateful for, he in no way wished to exacerbate the ringing that had just started in his ears.

"Are you sick?" She asked more sympathetically, taking the spare pocket square from his desk and beginning to pat gently at the sweat that had formed a sheen on his forehead.

She pulled away when he began to flinch at her contact, noting the way he clenched his eyes shut at the light streaming through the window and the lines of pain etched into his face.

"Migraine?"

That time, he didn't respond verbally, he just shook his head, but appeared to immediately regret it as he winced and then stood, unsteadily making his way to the men's room. He didn't even bother to excuse himself. As she watched him leave she was worried he wouldn't be able to stay upright for much longer. He looked so unstable, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was going to throw up.

When he came back, he slowly moved over to his desk, and, grabbing it for support, lowered himself back into his chair.

"Harvey, you have to tell me ri-"

She stopped talking when he looked up slowly at her. He looked full of pain. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale, lips cracked slightly. She felt bad for him, but she couldn't help if she didn't know what was wrong.

"Please, just-" he took a pause from what he was saying to lower his head and squeeze the bridge of his nose for a moment, "I have a headache, okay."

He was speaking slowly, too slowly for her liking. Something about him was off and she couldn't put her finger on what. He just seemed different, but she would be damned if she didn't figure it out before Mike arrived.

He didn't seem too sure of what he was saying, and she wasn't sure she believed a word that left his mouth, but she hadn't the heart to lecture or berate him at that moment, so she reminded him that she was right outside if he needed anything, and then left him in peace, shutting the door and keeping one eye on him at all times, one ear on the intercom.

Both of them found themselves unable to concentrate or do anything productive all day. He was too confused and dizzy to focus, nothing he read made sense, and she was too worried about the state of her boss. Every time she glanced in he looked frustrated and pained, like a puppy who had been kicked over and over and over, it was hurting her too, she couldn't stand to see him in so much pain.

By 12 o'clock, he had barely done anything. He was too unfocused to even wrap his head around the case in front of him and it was unbearable. He knew better than anyone that he should definitely not be at work, he should be resting, but there he was, and there was no way he was gonna go home now - he refused to admit defeat.

Somehow, he had managed to convince himself that he would be fine. Besides the constant nausea and trips to the men's room, the dizziness and that one time he passed out, not to mention how irritable he was or the fog that was hanging over him like a cloud he couldn't shake - he was fine.

It was after Donna watched him make his way back from restroom for the third time in two hours that she found herself making her way into his office, fed up of his secrecy and more than anything, concerned about him. He had been off all day, and she was gonna do something about it, whether he liked it or not.

"Harvey, we need to talk."

He winced at the sound of her voice and didn't even bother to raise his head from his hands to look at her.

"What is going on with you?"

She whispered this time, taking a seat opposite him so that he could look at her without straining himself. When he finally met her eyes she wasn't sure it was Harvey Specter she was looking at. He looked tired, with large black bags under his eyes. His face looked all hollow and was drained of colour. If she didn't know any better she would say he was hungover, but hungover Harvey was different. He was grumpy and arrogant. This Harvey was something she had never seen before - hopeless.

"It's a concussion."

It was barely audible.

"What? How did that happen?" She continued to use a hushed voice, glancing behind her to make sure no one was outside.

"Last night Mike and I were playing baseball to celebrate the win, and the kid has such bad aim that the ball whacked me round the side of my head before I even knew what had happened."

As he spoke slowly, his hand seemed to hover over the left side of his head, and sure enough, when she took a closer look, there was a slight bruise forming just beneath his hair - barely visible, but if you knew it was there, you could see it.

"Did you get it checked?"

There was a pause. A too long pause as she waited for his response. He looked as though he was struggling to form the word on his lips.

"No." He said eventually, "Thought I could sleep it off."

 _Wow_ , she thought to herself. Never had she met a man who was so intelligent but who at the same time made some of the most uninformed decisions she had ever seen.

"You should be resting."

Her voice was gentle and soft, he noted. She seemed to have lowered the pitch too, probably so as not to worsen his already pounding head.

"Work first, I'll rest over the weekend."

Donna really hated being in this position. The last thing she wanted to do was argue with him right now, he didn't deserve that, but at the same time she couldn't let him stay or he could make it worse.

"No, the firm will survive for one day without us."

He didn't look up, but he had heard.

"Us?"

"Well you can't take yourself to the doctors, and I don't presume you told Ray about your situation?"

He was about to shake his head but thought about it again and opted not to, knowing that even the slightest movement would cause him to throw up for the fifth time that day.

Eventually, he gave in and agreed to go with her, on the condition that nobody ever found out why he was leaving the office early. Once she had made a few phone calls and walked down the hall to inform Jessica, she gathered her bag and coat to leave. Before he even had to ask for her help, she was by his side, helping him up out of his chair and linking her arm around his. This light support was enough for him to get into the elevator, which was thankfully empty, before collapsing into her, unable to keep himself steady anymore.

It had taken an extreme amount of effort for him to walk that short distance from his office to the elevator and it had taken nearly everything out of him. The amount of focus he had had to use to just place one foot in front of the other surprised him. By the time the doors were closed, his breathing was laboured and he had once again begun to sweat through his shirt.

Donna didn't say anything for the duration of the journey, just glanced over every so often to make sure he was okay, and he appreciated that. Long gone was the facade he had been trying to keep up at the office, he now just sat there supporting his head with his hands, trying not to throw up every time she hit even a slightly uneven patch of the New York roads. She was trying not to, but there was still the unavoidable bump or jostle after which she always took one hand off the wheel and placed it on his knee comfortingly. That brief contact gave him something else to think about and actually helped him to keep what little food was left inside of him down.

She didn't even bother going to their doctor's office since she figured they'd just send them to the hospital anyway, and she knew he was concussed, she just wanted to rule out any other damage the puppy may have done.

Once they arrived they were waiting for a couple of hours and then they were finally seen. They confirmed that it was indeed a concussion and performed a few scans to rule out any bleeding or serious damage before giving her a list of care instructions and sending them on their way.

After finally arriving back at his condo, she led him over to his room, but before he could even get there, he had to sit down on the couch, placing his elbows on his knees and hanging his head down, trying to catch his breath and suppress the bile that was rising in his throat.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." She said after giving him a moment to compose himself before coming over and helping him up slowly, leading him to his bed and helping him into it.

"You can head back to the office. " He said groggily after he was finally settled, "I'll be okay here."

She scoffed slightly as she went to pull the blinds shut so he could get so he could get some sleep.

"I'm not leaving you, Harvey. What if something happens and I'm not here?"

Once she had finished sorting out the room, she flicked off the light switch.

"Get some sleep, okay? I'll be next door to give you some privacy."

Just before she walked through the door, she glanced back at him. He looked like he was already asleep so he just stood there and watched him as he lay there peacefully, breathing deeply.

"Donna, can you come lie with me?"

He was quiet, but she heard him. His voice was so vulnerable and it broke her heart a little. Trying to hide the way her eyes had lit up when he asked and the flush that was growing on her cheeks (although he couldn't see through his closed eyes), she headed over the the bed and sat down gently beside him, careful not to jostle him as she lay down and placed her head on the pillow. Before she could roll over to face him, he moved in closer and placed his head on her chest.

Her skin felt so soft against his face, and her smell was just right. It wasn't too strong like the perfume that some women wore, it didn't make him want to vomit but instead made him move in closer, taking in a deep breath to try and relieve the pounding in his head.

"Thank you, Donna." He whispered as he began to close his eyes. They felt so heavy and letting them drift shut felt like a really good idea

"Anytime, Harvey." She said, running her hand softly through his now dishevelled hair, "Anytime."


End file.
